


Stockholm Syndrome: Paying It Forward

by GhostFan77



Series: Lessons Learned [2]
Category: Ghost (Sweden Band), Magna Carta Cartel (Band)
Genre: Awkwardness, Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hand Jobs, Indecent Proposal?, Oral Sex, Sex, Sexual Content, Shameless Smut, Smut, Stockholm, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-09-25 08:05:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17117591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostFan77/pseuds/GhostFan77
Summary: A much needed lesson on body positivity is learned. But this time, Martin is theteacher, not thestudent.





	1. Reunited (And It Feels So Good)

Six months had passed, and I found myself in Sweden again. This time, I awaited Martin’s arrival in a restaurant in Stockholm. I was in town on business again, my trip coinciding with the first night of his band’s European tour. They were performing at Nalen, an entertainment venue that also included a restaurant and space for conferences. And it was in said restaurant that I patiently waited for my handsome dinner date. 

He had arranged for us to have dinner in one of the restaurant’s private dining rooms, the Loranga. I leaned against the wall next to the arched window with a glass of wine in hand, watching people walk by, going about their business, whatever it was. I noticed that the color of my wine was almost a perfect match to the burgundy curtains that grandly hung from ceiling to floor, smiling to myself as I took a sip. Martin was running late due to unspecified band business. Their show had been moved from Nalen Klubb to Stora Salen (which translates to “the main hall”, according to Google Translate) due to high demand for tickets. He was both nervous and excited that so many people wanted to see his band, and he was also nervous and excited for me to see him perform for the first time. 

I watched helplessly as a young woman tripped on the curb and landed sprawling on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. I looked around, trying to find an exit so I could go out and see if she was okay, but found none. She quickly stood up, looking absolutely mortified as she dusted her clothes off and inspected herself for injuries. She froze when she saw me watching from the window. _Are you okay?_ I mouthed to her with a concerned look on my face. She shrugged and nodded, and then walked away. 

The door to the room opened, and I could see Martin, his head turned in the direction of the waiter that had presumably escorted him to the Loranga. They exchanged a few words in Swedish. “Tack,” he said to the other man with a nod and a half smile, before turning his attention to me. His lips curled into a smile as he pulled the door closed behind him, and a smile formed on my face as well. Dressed in a black t-shirt, black jeans, and a dark grey jacket, he looked every bit as good as I remembered, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to spending some time alone with him after the show. Once the door was closed, he crossed the room and rounded the table to where I stood by the window; I set my wine glass on the table, turning towards him just in time for his hands to find my face as his lips found mine. He backed me against the wall, pressing his body against mine, and I could feel a certain hardness forming rapidly in his tight pants as our tongues probed each other’s mouth. 

Martin broke the kiss, resting his forehead against mine as his thumbs stroked my cheekbones. “I’m so happy to see you, Dylan,” he said softly. I didn’t get a chance to respond, however, because he immediately covered my mouth with his again. I’d forgotten neither the softness of his lips, nor how intoxicating his kisses were, and I could feel a familiar wetness forming between my legs. Not that we could do anything about our respective arousals now; the combination of the glass in the French doors separating this private room from the rest of the restaurant and the window facing a busy street afforded us no privacy. We were going to have to wait until after the show, like it or not. 

I put my hands on his chest, reluctantly breaking the kiss and creating some distance between us. I looked up at him, his hands still on my face, his thumbs still stroking my cheekbones, and he smiled down at me. “We should stop while we still can, Martin,” I suggested, even though my body wanted quite the opposite. He kissed my forehead, and then nodded. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” he began. “But I want to fuck you so bad, Dylan. Remember how amazing it was?” 

I hadn’t forgotten that either. In fact, I’d thought about it quite often over the past six months, and it was those memories that led to my willingness to see him again. This could never be a full-on relationship due to the distance between us, but it would ultimately be more than the one night stand I had initially thought it would be…not that I was going to complain about it, because the man was absolutely divine in bed. 

I nodded with a smirk as one of my hands slid down his torso, palming the bulge in his jeans. “I can’t wait to feel _this_ inside of me later,” I purred at him, moving my hand along the outline of his length. A low moan escaped his lips as his pupils blew out. He swallowed hard, and then looked down at me with a raised eyebrow. “Didn’t you just say that we should stop while we still can, love?” My other hand moved to the back of his neck, pulling him towards me and kissing him ardently. His hands had previously moved to my waist, and now they moved to my backside, squeezing my ass and pulling my body tight against his. 

My hand continued its ministrations, and he emitted low moans into my mouth before announcing breathlessly that he was getting close. He grabbed my arm and pulled me to the other side of the window, where we would be in the corner of the room and out of view from the door or the window, for the most part. His fingers quickly worked his button and fly, and he was able to release his painfully erect cock. I wrapped a hand around as much of his shaft as I could and began to stroke firmly along his length. A string of whispered obscenities escaped his lips, and his head lolled back as his breathing grew ragged, his release approaching. I dropped to my knees, and my mouth replaced my hand. I took him into my mouth, sucking him off until he filled my mouth, and then I swallowed every last drop. 

I looked up at him, finding that he was already looking down at me, and I licked my lips with a mischievous smirk. He chuckled. “Fuck, Dylan…that was…” Not able to find words that amply described what just occurred, he chuckled again. Martin helped me to my feet, and then quickly made himself decent again. “I’m glad I asked our waiter to give us a few minutes,” he commented, to which I playfully poked him in the side. “You had this planned, didn’t you?” I said with feigned shock. He chuckled in response. “Not really. I just wanted to be able to properly greet you without being interrupted!”

He wrapped his arms around my waist as I wrapped mine around his neck. “Well, I’d say it certainly worked in your favor,” I giggled as he lowered his head and kissed me, effectively shutting me up.

We decided it was time to sit down and look at the menu so we’d be able to place our order when the waiter returned. Before sitting down, Martin released the curtain tie-backs, allowing the fabric to fall back into place over the window, giving us privacy from passer-bys on the street on the other side of the glass. Doors to the venue would be opening soon, so foot traffic of people in MCC shirts had steadily increased. I imagined that if some of his female fans saw us together, I would suddenly be the most hated woman in Stockholm. Or perhaps the most envied. It was a toss-up, really. 

We took our places at the table, sitting on the same side with our backs to the now covered window, stealing glances at each other as we looked at our menus. “What are you going to get?” I asked him.

He raised his eyebrows, looking over the front of the menu, and then glancing at the blank backside, and then looking at me. “What I want isn’t on the menu,” he replied with a wink and a smirk, to which I giggled, before he continued. “But I’ll settle for the steak.” He set his menu down on the table. “What about you?” 

I sighed. “Alas, what I want isn’t on the menu either, but I’ll settle for the… _meatballs_ ,” trying my best to keep a straight face, but failing as I started to laugh. He threw his head back and did a combination laugh/groan. “Are you trying to kill me, Dylan? All I’m going to be able to think about is having my balls in that pretty little mouth of yours!” I hid my face behind the menu; it had reddened significantly due to how hard I was laughing. 

Before I had the chance to fully compose myself, the door opened and the waiter walked in. He and Martin had a brief exchange in Swedish, and then he took the menus from us, unfazed by my laughter-induced teary eyes and flushed face. The waiter turned on his heels and left the room again, closing the door behind him. 

“I placed your order for you,” he told me with a smirk and a chuckle. I ran my fingers under my eyes, hoping the tears hadn’t ruined my mascara or eye liner. “Thank you, Martin,” I replied with a sheepish smile. He noticed that I had a smudge, and rather than try to direct me to it, he reached over and wiped it with one of his fingers. “There, you’re good now,” he said softly, leaning towards me for a kiss, for which I met him in the middle. I felt a pang of intense yearning as I felt his lips against mine, and I was reminded of how wet I was for him. He slowly shifted his positioning in the chair as the kiss deepened, facing me while I still mostly faced the table, my head turned in his direction. I took one of his hands and guided it to my thigh and then under my skirt, parting my legs to grant him access as we continued to kiss, not able to get enough of each other. He understood exactly what I wanted, his hand continuing farther up my skirt and then sliding my panties to the side, running his thick fingers between my folds. We moaned into each other’s mouths, for different reasons of course: me because I needed his touch so badly, and him because he felt how wet I was for him. 

Martin slid a finger inside of me, quickly adding a second, working his magic on my g-spot. Distracted and in desperate need of release, I broke the kiss, sliding down a bit in my seat and lifting my hips. He added a third finger, and then his thumb found my clit, rubbing it just right as his fingers fucked me until I came undone. I grabbed the sides of my chair, trying to ground myself as I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience while I orgasmed on his digits. His mouth covered mine just in time to obscure what would’ve been a pretty obscene moan. His fingers slowed once I had come down from my high, but they weren’t removed. His forehead against mine, he licked his lips. “I think you have another one in there for me; don’t you, Dylan?” he whispered. I bit my bottom lip and furrowed my eyebrows in concentration, nodding in response as his fingers started moving again. “Going to make you cum all over my tongue and cock later…” I nodded again, whimpering in need. With how much he turned me on, he could give me an infinite amount of orgasms, and I’d still want more. 

He continued whispering all the things he was going to do to me later, and I think it was just as much that as the actual ministrations of his fingers that tipped me over the edge the second time. And just as he had the first time, Martin covered my mouth with his to stifle another moan. I exhaled deeply once I was done riding out my orgasm, trying to clear my lust-hazed mind. He slowly removed his fingers, bringing them to his mouth so he could suck my juices off them, one by one. He followed that with a kiss, and I could taste myself on his tongue and his breath. 

We heard footsteps approaching outside the door, and parted just in time as the door opened. Our waiter entered with our food, and another waiter followed with a bottle of wine. He put our plates on the table in front of us, and the other waiter handed him the wine once his hands were free, exiting the room afterwards. After he had filled Martin’s glass and re-filled mine, he left the room as well, closing the door on his way. 

Martin and I behaved ourselves over dinner, catching up as we ate. We had chatted often enough over the past six months; first via Instagram, and then via text after one of his bandmates had stumbled across some of our steamier DMs. Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure it was his brother, who was also in the band. He wanted to introduce me to the other guys at some point this evening, and while I hoped his brother wouldn’t say anything about what he had read, I was prepared to deal with him either way. 

Towards the end of our meal, I heard my work phone chime with a text notification, and I apologized to Martin as I reached for my purse. Due to the nature of my job, I was more or less on-call at all hours, so I needed to check the message. It was my manager, informing me that I needed to go to Belgium later this coming week, wrenching my plans to fly home for a few days before heading to Norway the following week. I knew already there were no direct flights from Stockholm to my destination in Antwerp, so I would have to take a flight into Amsterdam, followed by a train from Amsterdam to Antwerp. 

I was going to enjoy my evening with Martin, deciding to wait until tomorrow morning to change my Wednesday flight home to a flight to Amsterdam. I replied to my manager’s text, and then slid my phone back into my purse. 

“What was that about?” Martin asked. 

“Oh, it was my manager. We’ve been working to close a new client in Belgium, and it looks like I’m heading there this week,” I responded with a shrug. 

His eyebrows arched in curiosity. “Where in Belgium, Dylan?”

“Antwerp.” 

He reached in one of his jacket pockets for his phone so he could Google something. “How long will you be there?” 

I shrugged again. “Only two or three days. I’ll probably leave on Saturday.” 

Martin looked up from his phone. “We’re performing in Vosselaar, Belgium, a week from this Sunday. A train ride from Antwerp to Vosselaar is only an hour and a half; think you could stay a couple of extra days, come see the last show on our tour?” 

I reached for my purse again, removing my phone to look at my schedule. I didn’t need to be in Norway until Monday evening, and I was reminded that I would have to change my flight from home to Oslo tomorrow as well; I’d probably have to take a train back to Amsterdam in order to catch a flight to Norway’s biggest city though, which was fine. With the train’s wi-fi, I’d be able to get some work done while I enjoyed the Belgian and Dutch landscapes. 

“Think you’ll want to see me again after tonight, Martin?” I teased as I winked at him. 

“Need you ask such a question?” he replied with a smirk. 

It was a date then, and suddenly, I wasn’t so annoyed about the change in my travel plans.


	2. The German Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dylan meets the rest of the band, makes a new friend, and learns a little more about Martin's past.

It was almost time for the opening act to take the stage. Martin led me from the restaurant to the backstage area of Stora Salen through corridors with restricted access that seemed more like a maze than anything. We walked hurriedly, hand-in-hand, and he nodded at venue staff as we passed them. He wanted to introduce me to his bandmates and gave me a quick rundown along the way. Tall, blue eyes, facial hair? That’s Pär, their bass guitarist. Glasses and facial hair? That’s Niels, their guitarist. Perfect hair and facial hair? That’s Arvid, their drummer, and his younger brother. “Come to think of it,” he began with a chuckle. “I’m really the only one without facial hair right now.” 

“Except for this bit of scruff,” I said as I reached up and ran the back of my hand along his jawline. He took my hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss before letting our hands fall back between us, again hand-in-hand. “It doesn’t bother you when we’re kissing, does it?” he asked. 

I shook my head. “No, I like it, actually.” He looked down at me with a smile, and I looked back up at him with a mischievous look in my eye to match the smirk on my face. “I’ll also really enjoy feeling it on the insides of my thighs when you’re going down on me later.” His eyebrows shot up his forehead as he chuckled. “You’re killing me, Dylan! Fuck…” Martin looked behind us for a second, seeing that we were currently alone, and then he suddenly pushed me up against the wall, putting his large ringed hands on my breasts as his mouth covered mine in a hungry kiss. Through my top and bralette, he could feel my nipples instantly harden with his touch, and he flicked his thumbs over them. I moaned into his mouth. 

We were interrupted by the sound of applause and cheering echoing through the corridor; the opening act must’ve taken the stage, and that was confirmed when they launched into their first song. Martin grabbed my hand, and we continued our hurried pace again. “We’re almost there, Dylan.” And soon enough, we reached the backstage area, and he ushered me into their dressing room. “Hey guys, sorry I’m late,” Martin said to his bandmates, who turned their attention to us. “Did you get lost on your way back or something?” the one with the glasses asked with a smirk. Martin shrugged as we exchanged a glance. “Something like that.” The one with the glasses gave a sarcastic nod. “Right…” 

Martin clapped his hands and then rubbed them together. “Anyway. Guys, this is Dylan, and Dylan, that’s Pär...” He was sitting down, but he did indeed look pretty tall. Blue eyes and facial hair as described, Pär waved at me with a half-smile from where he sat. “That’s Niels…” Glasses and facial hair as described, Niels crossed the room to shake my hand. “Nice to meet you, Dylan,” he said, and I told him that it was nice to meet him too. “And lastly, that’s Arvid…” Perfect hair and facial hair as described, he also came over, shifting his drumsticks into the same hand so he could shake mine.

“Very nice to meet you, Dylan,” Arvid said with a smile. “My brother failed to mention how lovely you are.” He brought my hand to his lips for a kiss. I glanced at Martin, who shrugged and rolled his eyes. “It’s nice to meet you as well, Arvid,” I responded. “Are you planning to join us for a drink after the show?” Arvid inquired. “I know you two have other plans, but surely you could have a drink with us first…?” 

I looked up at Martin, not sure how to answer because we did indeed have post-concert plans that didn’t involve anybody else, and we were both eager to be alone as soon as possible. “If you want…” he said as he ran his fingers through his hair. Before I could respond to Arvid, he was already talking. “We can also figure things out after the show,” he suggested, to which I nodded. 

I talked to them for a few more minutes until Martin put his hand on the small of my back. “We should get you out front, Dylan.” Arvid quickly volunteered to walk me out, and Niels said something to him in Swedish. I failed to mention this to Martin, but I have a fairly decent understanding of Swedish, thanks to Swedish clients and also to having Swedish grandparents; I just can’t speak it to save my life. And I’m pretty certain Niels told him to keep it in his pants or something like that, which would explain Martin’s slightly annoyed reaction at Arvid. 

It was ultimately Martin _and_ Arvid that walked me to the secured door that separated the backstage area from the main hall itself. Arvid watched as his brother and I kissed, and then he kissed one of my cheeks himself. Martin cracked the door open so I could slip out. I yelped as I felt a hand smack my ass, and I turned around to see Martin wink at me with a smirk. I giggled and blushed, hoping nobody had seen that. The door was right next to the stairs that led to the stage, and people were standing only a few feet away, but I don’t think anybody noticed, or at least not who did it.

Without going too far, I was able to find a place to stand, but decided to search for something to drink instead. I noticed a bar at the back of the hall, so I made my way towards it and got in line. I looked around, admiring the old chandeliers and columns that adorned the main hall as I waited. 

As I was taking in my surroundings, I saw somebody who looked familiar, and I was pretty sure it was the girl I had seen trip and fall outside of the restaurant while I was waiting for Martin earlier. I stepped out of line and walked the short distance over to her. I felt weird saying something to her, but I wanted to make sure she was okay. 

She was standing by herself, her hands in her pockets, and she noticed me as I was approaching. Not only that, but _she_ recognized _me_. “Are you the one in the restaurant that saw me fall?” The venue was loud, but we could still hear each other well enough over the music. I nodded and gave her a sympathetic smile. “Yeah. Are you alright?” She showed me a couple of scratches on her palms, and also mentioned that she had hurt her knees, but they were doing okay now.

I introduced myself, and I learned that her name was Anna, and she was 27 years old. Anna was an expatriate from Germany and had been living and working in Stockholm for the past year. She explained that because she was really shy and felt socially awkward, it was hard for her to make friends. Aside from a couple of friends at work, she didn’t know anybody else in Sweden and had come to the show alone. I offered to hang out with her since I was also on my own, to which she agreed. “Can I ask you a question, Dylan?” 

I nodded and shrugged. “Sure, Anna. Go ahead.” 

She looked at me shyly. “Was that…was that Martin from MCC that walked into the room you were in earlier?” 

My eyes widened, and I chuckled softly. “It was, actually. We’re friends.” 

“I saw him as I started to walk away, and I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to watch, but it looked like he kiss—“ 

I interrupted her before she could finish. “Whatever you may have seen, Anna, he and I are friends,” I explained with a smile. “Would you like to meet him? I’ll be seeing him after the show, and you’re welcome to tag along if you want to meet him.” 

She shook her head. “I…I don’t know what I would say to him. I wouldn’t know what to talk about.” 

I shrugged. “He’s really nice, Anna. You could even just tell him that you enjoyed the show. That would be something, right?” 

Anna continued to protest. “I don’t think I can, Dylan. He’s so good-looking, and he wouldn’t want to talk to me. I’m not pretty like you.” 

I put my hand on her shoulder. “I promise that he would talk to you, Anna. He’s a really nice guy. And don’t say that you’re not pretty, because you are.” 

She looked down at the floor. “You’re just saying that to be nice. It’s okay. I know I’m not. Guys don’t like me. I haven’t had a boyfriend in years.” 

“How about we go get a drink, find a better place to watch Martin, and go from there?” I suggested as I gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, knowing I probably wasn’t going to win this battle against her self-esteem. She nodded. We walked towards the bar and got in line. Luckily, the line was shorter than it had been the first time I was in it. I got us a couple of beers, and we made our way closer to the stage, up by where I had been before deciding to get a drink in the first place. 

After one more song, the opening act left the stage. Anna told me more about herself and how she grew up in Germany. Her family still lives there, and she was looking forward to going home over the holidays to see them. She asked me a bit about myself, but she was mostly curious about Martin. “Has he told you what happened with Ghost?” she inquired. 

I gave her a slightly confused look. “Ghost? What’s that?” 

She looked at me like I had three heads. “You don’t know about Ghost, Dylan?” 

I shrugged. “Am I supposed to…?” 

Anna let out a giggle. “You’re probably the only person here that doesn’t, sorry to tell you. It’s the band he was in before MCC.” 

I nodded. “Oh.” I did an inventory of his tattoos; he had kind-of explained them to me, and then I remembered the symbols on his left arm. “Oh, wait…are the elemental symbol tattoos from Ghost?” 

She nodded. “Yes. And actually, MCC existed before Ghost, I should mention. It just had a few different people back then.” 

I shrugged. “He mentioned he’s been in quite a few bands, but nothing in great detail. Were you a Ghost fan, Anna?” 

Anna nodded. “I’m still a Ghost fan. I liked them more when Martin was with the band, but I still enjoy their music. You should check them out, Dylan.” 

She was probably right that I was the only there that didn’t know about Ghost. I didn’t really have the time to follow bands, or even to go to concerts; this was a rare occasion for me. Anna showed me a few pictures of Ghost on her phone and some of her favorites of Omega (as Martin was known during his time with Ghost), and I had to admit that he looked pretty hot in his costume. If it was even possible, I was looking even more forward to my time with him after the show. 

A short time later, Martin took the stage with Arvid, Niels, and Pär, and the murmur of conversations quickly turned into loud cheers and applause. 

I wasn’t familiar with their first two songs, but I was familiar enough to sing along with the third, “Turn”, especially the chorus and its “fuck it all” line. Martin had been scanning the audience trying to find me, and at some point, he located me and winked when he saw me. His eyes made their way back in my direction every so often, like he was trying to see if I was enjoying myself, which I was. Plus, I had kind-of made a new friend in Anna, so that made it even more fun.

The highlight of the show for me was “Sway”. I might not have known many of their songs, but that was hands-down my favorite. It seemed like a good choice as I later learned it was Anna’s favorite as well. 

Like all good things, the show eventually came to an end after their ten-song set. They disappeared backstage for a short time, but then came back out to sign autographs, take pictures, and mingle with fans. I was still trying to talk Anna into letting me introduce her to Martin, but she was still hesitant. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t end up having any say in the matter.


	3. A Change of Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin jokingly makes a suggestion that leads to a change of plans for him and Dylan.

I felt his arms wrap around me from behind, and Anna’s eyes grew wide. Martin rested his chin on my shoulder, and when I turned my head to face him, he kissed my nose before asking if I enjoyed the show. I smiled and nodded. “You guys were amazing, Martin! Weren’t they, Anna?” 

I looked over at Anna, as did Martin, and a blush crept up her face as she nodded. “Martin, this is my new friend, Anna.” He let go of me and took a few steps towards her, holding out his hand. “Hi Anna, it’s nice to meet you,” he said with a soft smile on his face. She took his outstretched hand in hers. “It’s…it’s nice to meet you too, Martin.” 

He picked up on her accent and asked if she was from Germany. She nodded. “Berlin.” 

Martin’s eyebrows arched. “Awesome, we’ll be there in a few days.” 

Anna smiled shyly. “My sister is going to your show. She’s an MCC fan as well.” 

He winked at her. “She has good taste in music, just like you.” 

I didn’t think it was possible for Anna to blush any harder, but she managed to turn a few more shades of red. Martin excused himself a few minutes later as there were more autographs to be signed and pictures to be taken, telling us he’d be back soon. 

Anna looked at me, once again with wide eyes. “I can’t believe I just met Martin Persner, Dylan!”

“It wasn’t so bad, was it?” I teased with a smile, to which she shook her head. “See? I told you he was a nice guy, Anna!” 

She smiled shyly. “And he’s so handsome!” 

I nodded in agreement, thinking back to our time together when we first met. After the fact, he admitted it had been a huge boost to his self-esteem, and he’d definitely been feeling better about himself ever since. I admired that he had been able to show such vulnerability to me in making such an admission in the first place the night we met in that hotel bar. In today’s society, it seems to be frowned upon for men to have feelings or to show vulnerability, and when they do, they are considered “weak”. Where would that sort of toxic masculinity taken Martin had he chosen not to disclose what had been bothering him? 

“Do you want to meet the rest of the band, Anna?” I asked with a raised eyebrow, hopeful that she would break out of her shell a little and let me introduce her to Niels, Arvid, and Pär, but she declined. “I think we’re going to go out for drinks after this; do you want to join us for that?” 

Anna shook her head. “They wouldn’t want me there, Dylan. There’s nothing interesting about me. Why would they want to talk to me?” 

Before I was able to respond, Arvid walked up. I introduced him to Anna, and then asked him to keep her company for a few minutes. Truth be told, I really needed to go to the bathroom, so I excused myself and went off in search of the nearest ladies room. Luckily, I didn’t have to go too far, and when I came back out, Martin was waiting for me. I smiled upon seeing him and walked over to him. “Hey you...,” I said as he put his hands on my waist, and I loosely wrapped my arms around his neck. “Mind if we join the guys, Dylan? They want to get a drink at an Irish pub down the street.” 

“Sure, we can do that, Martin,” I replied, and he dipped his head down to steal a quick kiss. “Alright,” he began. “We’re leaving in a few minutes then. Do you think your friend would want to join us?” 

I shrug. “We can ask her.” I looked up at him with my eyebrows slightly furrowed. “She’s really shy, Martin.” 

He nodded. “It seemed like it. What’s her deal?” 

I sighed, shaking my head. “Seems like bad self-esteem, mostly. She doesn’t think she’s pretty or interesting, or that anybody wants her around.” 

Martin raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to spend the night with Anna and do for her what you did for me?” 

He was joking. I knew he was joking. He chuckled when he realized I was contemplating his suggestion. “No, Dylan…I was _kidding_. We’re spending the night together.” 

I raised my eyebrows and shrugged. “It’s not a horrible idea though, Martin. It’s like you’d be paying it forward.” 

He grimaced and threw his head back. “It _is_ a horrible idea, Dylan. I want to spend the night with _you_. Don’t you want to spend it with _me_?” 

I slid my hands down to his chest, drawing invisible designs onto his black shirt with my nails. “Of course I do, Martin,” I began. “But we’ll see each other in Belgium, so if you spend tonight with Anna…” One of his ringed hands moved from my waist to my chin, tilting it upwards, and then brushing his lips against mine. 

“How about…” He pressed his lips against mine, softly kissing me. “I think about it…” He kissed me again, a bit deeper this time. “…while we’re…” Another kiss, again a bit deeper than the last. “…having drinks?” He covered my mouth with his in a deep and hungry kiss, taking my bottom lip between his and tugging on it playfully as he pulled away. “Will that make you happy, Dylan?” 

My lips curled into a smile, and I nodded. “I must be crazy for suggesting that you spend the night with another woman when I really just want you all to myself…” 

Martin ran his thumb over my lips. “You say the word, and I’m yours tonight,” he said in a near-whisper before replacing his thumb with his lips for what was a sweet and tender kiss. He reluctantly pulled away, taking my hand and leading me back towards the hall. “We should see if they’re ready to go.” 

I nodded. “Can you be the one to ask Anna if she’ll join us, Martin? I think she’ll go if you ask.” 

He smirked and winked down at me. “You got it.” 

Arvid was still talking to Anna, and Niels had joined them. Anna looked uncomfortable, but bless her, she was doing her best to carry on a conversation with both. Her eyes lit up a little when she saw me and Martin walk up, though I’m quite certain the effect was caused by Martin. “Where’s Pär?” Martin asked. 

As if on cue, Pär sauntered up and joined our little group. “Time to drink?” he said as he draped an arm over Niels’s shoulder, looking around to see his bandmates nodding. “Let’s go then.”

We made our way out of the hall and then out of Nalen, standing on the sidewalk in front of the building. Anna started to say good-bye to everybody. “What? You’re not coming with us?” Arvid said. 

She shook her head. “No, I—“ 

Martin gently interrupted her. “How about you join us for a drink, Anna? You don’t have to work tomorrow, do you?” 

Anna looked over at me, and I nodded, silently encouraging her to join us. She acquiesced. 

Our destination was Galway’s, an Irish pub that was only a couple blocks from Nalen, a quick walk away. And a few minutes later, we were there. Since it was a Friday night, the bar was still pretty packed, but we were able to find a table big enough for all of us. I sat between Martin and Arvid on one side of the table while Anna sat on the other side with Niels and Pär, with Anna sitting across from Martin. 

A waitress stopped by to take our order, and we included a few appetizers to go along with our drinks since the guys were hungry after their show. Martin and I made sure to keep Anna involved in the conversation, and I appreciated that he was making an effort. I _really_ wanted to spend the night with him, and I knew he wanted to spend it with me, but I hoped he was still considering “paying it forward”. As it had with him in March, it felt like the right thing to do…if Anna was on board with it, of course. 

After the appetizers and a couple of drinks, Niels and Pär decided to head back to their hotel for the night, and a short time later, Anna announced that she was going to leave as well. Martin offered to walk her home. When she declined, he insisted, and that was that. I wanted to kiss him good-bye since I wasn’t going to see him again until we were both in Belgium in eight days, but I had told Anna that he and I were friends, and I felt like kissing him in front of her would jeopardize his attempt to “pay it forward”. Instead, I settled for a hug and a kiss on the forehead, and then they left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up, the next chapter or so will be from Martin's point of view. I've never written from a man's perspective, so this should be interesting ;)


	4. The Offer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin opens up to Anna, and makes her an offer; unfortunately, he's not sure if it's one that she can't refuse, or one that will leave him with her handprint across his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: this chapter is from Martin's perspective.

What the fuck am I doing? 

I glanced back at the pub, wishing I had kept my mouth shut and not suggested this. Add to it, I left Dylan with my brother. It wouldn’t be so bad if it was the older one, but no…it’s the younger one. Fuck. If he lays a finger on her, I’m going to start telling Arvid he’s adopted like I did when we were kids. 

Anna. I need to focus on Anna, but I don’t know what to say. I feel like such an amateur. How did Dylan pull this off with me? She was so much better at this than I am. I could seriously kick myself right now. 

I look over at Anna, and I wonder if this silence is as awkward for her as it is for me. I should ask her a question, but about what…? 

“How long have you-“ We must have had the same idea in mind, because we both started to ask questions of each other at the same time. We both laugh, and I hope it serves as an icebreaker of sorts. I think she was asking me about Dylan though. How do I explain Dylan to her? 

“How long have you been in Sweden, Anna?” I inquired after she told me to go ahead. I probably should’ve let her go first, but honestly, I need more time to formulate an answer to her question. How the fuck do I explain Dylan? 

“I’ve been in Sweden a little more than a year,” she replied, glancing over at me as we walked. 

“Do you like it here?” 

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her nod. “I do. Stockholm is a very nice city. I miss my family and friends in Berlin though.” 

“I can see how that would happen. All the time I spent on tour, I missed my family and friends back home as well,” I replied. “Do you go back to Berlin often?” 

Anna shook her head. “No, not as often as I would like, unfortunately. I won’t be going home again until Christmas.” 

I frowned on her behalf. “That’s too bad, Anna. I’m sorry.” 

She shrugged. “I talk to my mom and sister a few times a week though. It’s not the same, but it’s something. And we video chat.” 

I nodded. “It’s nice that you can do that.”

We fell back into silence as we continued to walk, and I was hopeful that she had forgotten about her question. 

“How…how do you know Dylan?” 

Then again, maybe not. Fuck. 

I sighed and then let out a chuckle that sounded more nervous than intended. “I met Dylan here in Stockholm about six months ago.” 

“How?” 

I ran my hands through my hair, and then shoved them in the pockets of my jeans. “Just a case of being in the same place at the same time, really. We were in a bar, and we started talking.” 

“She said you two are friends…?” 

I didn’t know if that was a question or a statement, but I think I visibly bristled, and I hope Anna didn’t notice. Truth is, I wanted it to be more. I faced an uphill battle with Dylan, but I felt like we were down to just distance being an issue, and I was confident it was something we could work around. I’ll have to wait until Belgium to chip away at that, thanks to my big mouth. “Yes, we are friends.” I hated those words, and they probably sounded unintentionally terse as they left my mouth. 

“You want to be more than friends with her?” 

Fuck. I shrugged as I thought of how to answer her question. “I don’t really know how to answer your question, Anna. It’s…complicated.”

We were passing by a café that still had its tables and chairs sitting outside, and I thought to myself that now might be a good time to explain a few things to Anna. I veered slightly off our path, pulled out a couple of chairs, and gestured for her to sit down. She looked slightly confused, but she took a seat, and then I followed suit. 

We sat facing each other. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my thighs, trying to figure out where to begin. Six months ago. Bad time in my life. Seems like a good place to start. “Six months ago, I was at a really low point. I had just broken up with a girl I’d been seeing for a couple of years, and because of that and other contributing factors, I was feeling really down on myself. It was really bad.” I shook my head, thinking back to my frame of mind at the time. “We had done a couple of shows in London, and I was here in Stockholm visiting friends before heading home, staying in a hotel while I was in town. I was in the hotel bar one night, having a drink and looking pretty depressed, and that was when I met Dylan. She bought me a drink and invited me over to chat with her, so I went over to talk to this woman I’d never met before.”

I realized I hadn’t been looking at Anna at all as I’ve been talking, so I need to make it a point to make some eye contact. Come on, Martin. I look at Anna, and she’s watching me intently. Eye contact. “We talked for awhile, and then she asked me what was bothering me. She had noticed me from across the bar, how down I looked, and that was why she invited me over. So, I had a choice: I could either talk to her about it, or I could choose to keep it to myself. I chose to talk to her about it.” 

“What was wrong, Martin?” 

I shrugged and smiled, forcing myself to make eye contact with her. “I wasn’t feeling very good about myself, Anna. I realized I had gained some weight, and I felt unattractive. And this was at the same time that my relationship ended, so I was feeling even worse.”

“How did she help you?” 

I chuckled nervously. “Well, it was kind-of…how do I say it? _Unorthodox_ , really. First, she just listened to me without judging, which was helpful enough itself. And second, she made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Well, I suppose I _could have_ , but I didn’t.”

Anna narrowed her eyes as she tilted her head in curiosity. “What was this offer, Martin?” 

“She told me how attractive she thought I was, and then—I’ll never forget this—she said to me, ‘How about we go up to your room, and you let me show you _just_ how hot I think you are?’” I shrugged. “A beautiful woman like her makes an offer like that to a guy like me? How could I say ‘no’ to that? So, I didn’t.” 

“You two had sex then? Why are you telling me this?” 

I nodded. “We did, yes.” I wanted to mention how amazing it was, but now wasn’t the time or the audience for it. “And I’m telling you because…” Okay, how do I approach this? Fuck. “Listen, Dylan told me about some of the things that you were telling her, like how you feel about yourself, Anna.”

“And what? You want to have sex with me?” 

“It doesn’t have to be that, Anna. If that won’t help you feel better about yourself, what will? You tell me. You’re a pretty girl, and you should know that.” How in the world did Dylan do this? The look on Anna’s face isn’t exactly encouraging, and I don’t think this is going very well. Fuck. Well, maybe I will be spending the night with Dylan after all…

She hesitates before speaking, and I’m feeling like this could end with a slap to the face and her walking away. “And what about afterwards, Martin?” 

Oh. Afterwards. I shrugged. “I don’t really know, Anna. I can’t promise that we’d do it again, but I do promise that if I saw you somewhere, like at another show, for instance, I wouldn’t avoid you or pretend nothing happened. I won’t be an asshole about it.” 

She furrowed her eyebrows and slowly nodded. “Was this Dylan’s idea?” 

I shook my head. “No, it was…it was my idea, actually. Like a ‘pay it forward’ thing, I guess. Dylan did this for me, so now I’m offering it to you.”

Anna averts my gaze, and I think she’s mulling it over. I smile wistfully, thinking about how Dylan had calmly sat there and sipped on her wine while I contemplated my options that night. There’s no way I look nearly as sophisticated as she did. 

After what feels like forever, she met my eyes again. “Okay, Martin. I’ll take you up on your offer.” 

While I’m shocked on the inside, I’m doing my best to appear calm and cool on the outside, channeling Dylan for my response. I winked at Anna, giving her my best smirk, which I hope doesn’t end up looking idiotic. “I was hoping you would.”


	5. Taking It Slow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna and Martin get more comfortable with each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: another chapter from Martin's perspective.

The rest of our walk was completed in relative silence. I think we were both trying to overcome our own shock over the situation, but who knows? We reached her building, climbed the stairs to the third-floor, and then she invited me into her apartment. 

Fuck, now what? 

She offered me a drink, and we sat down on her sofa after she retrieved a couple of beers from her kitchen. I was about to ask her a question, but she beat me to it with one of her own. Unfortunately, it was about Dylan. 

“Did you have plans with Dylan tonight?” 

I nodded as I took a quick swig of my beer. “I did.” 

“She knows you’re here?” 

I nodded again. 

“And she’s okay with it?” 

I sighed as I nodded yet again. “She encouraged it, actually. Dylan wanted to help you but knew she couldn’t do it herself, Anna. When I suggested that I…” I gestured towards her, not really knowing the words to properly describe this. “…she thought it was a great idea, even though it meant a change in our plans.” 

“Will you see her again?” 

If I nod again, I’m going to feel like a bobblehead. “I’ll see her at the end of the tour when we’re both in Belgium.” 

“Are you going to talk to her about a relationship?” 

I shrugged. “I was thinking about it, but we’ll see.” 

Anna nodded thoughtfully. “I think you should, Martin. She is very nice and pretty, and you like her. Are you sure you want to be here…?” 

I chuckled as I reached for her beer bottle, setting both of our bottles on the coffee table in front of her sofa. “I’m sure, Anna.” I slowly leaned towards her, bridging the distance between us, going in for a kiss. She closed her eyes as I brushed my lips against hers, kissing her gently when I didn’t meet any resistance. But after a short time, she pulled away, apologizing. “Don’t worry, don’t worry. It’s okay. Is everything alright?” I sat back, trying to give her some space. 

“It’s fine, but can we talk some more, Martin?” 

I nodded. “Of course we can, Anna.” I smiled as gently as I could, and I hope it came across as such and not creepy or predatorial. “What would you like to talk about?” Please no more Dylan. I don’t regret being here, but the more we talk about her, the more I’m reminded that I’m not with her tonight. Our time together in the restaurant before the show wasn’t nearly enough. I wanted to bend her over the table and—okay, I need to stop thinking about her too, especially in this capacity. Otherwise, blood is going to start to flow somewhere I don’t want it to at the moment. 

She shrugs, so I guess I’ll just improvise. “Seen any good movies lately?” I inquired. 

Anna shook her head. “Yeah, neither have I.” Okay, that wasn’t a very good question. Let’s try this again. “What did you think of the show, Anna?” 

She smiled. “It was so much fun, Martin, and you guys sounded so good.” 

I returned her smile. “Awesome, glad you enjoyed yourself. Was there a song you were looking forward to hearing?” 

“’Sway’ is my favorite, so that one definitely. And your new one.” 

I chuckled. “It was our first time performing that live. I almost forgot the words.” 

Anna shrugged and giggled. “I’m sure it happens, Martin.” 

I nodded as I rolled my eyes. “Could’ve been worse, I suppose. At least I didn’t fall off the stage.” Like somebody else was known to do on occasion, but I’m not naming any names… (**cough, cough** Tobias!)

“I’m sorry to bring up your former band, but Dylan didn’t know about Ghost.” 

I raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t surprise me, Anna. I mean, she knows I’ve been in different bands over the years, and I’ve told her a little bit. She seems to like MCC though, and this was the first show she’s been to in a long time.”

“Did she come here just for the concert and to see you?” 

I shook my head. “No, she’s in Stockholm for work, and the timing just worked out this way.” 

“I showed her pictures of Ghost and of you when you were Omega.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Did you really?” She nodded. “What did she say?” 

“I think she liked your costumes. She took my phone from me to get a closer look.” Anna put a hand over her mouth as she giggled. 

Okay, that’s pretty funny, and it made me laugh even harder. “I’ll have to let her know I still have my old costumes…” I wiggled my eyebrows at Anna, who continued to giggle. 

“You should use it as a bargaining chip when you talk to her in Belgium, Martin!” 

I nodded, laughing too hard to actually say anything. I did like the idea though; I’m going to have to keep it in my back pocket. 

Eventually, our laughter died down, and we were back to semi-awkward silence. Anna is a very nice girl, but what was I thinking? I don’t feel like I’m paying anything forward, and I wish I could text Dylan to ask her what the fuck I should say or do. If we could just get passed this and onto _other_ things, I’ll be just fine. I can definitely handle that part…

And it seems like we might be moving somewhere on that front, because Anna just announced she was going to go take a quick shower, and I’m to make myself comfortable. Fuck, I could use a shower myself. At least performing as me is not nearly as bad as it was in a costume, so I know for a fact it could be worse. 

I realize that I’m still wearing my jacket, so I stood up to take it off, hanging it on the coat rack by her door, and then I slipped my shoes off. How much more comfortable am I suppose to make myself? I don’t want to get _too_ comfortable and have it be more than she’s comfortable with. I decide to play it safe, leaving my shirt and jeans on. 

She walks out a few minutes later in a bathrobe, with her hair up in a towel. 

“Anna, would you mind if I took a quick shower as well?” 

“No, not at all. I will get you a towel.” 

She disappears for a moment, returning with a towel for me. I take it from her and head into her bathroom, closing the door behind me. Huh. I’m going to have to use my time in the shower to decide whether to walk out with the towel around my waist, or partially dressed. I don’t see a spare bathrobe in here, so it has to be one or the other. I suppose I could walk out without anything on, _au naturel Martin_ , but that might be coming on a _little_ too strong. 

I strip down, folding my clothes and putting them on the counter, and I turn the water on, adjusting the temperature so I won’t get scalded or feel the need to blame cold water for any potential shrinkage issues. I step into the shower and stand almost directly under the shower head; the water streaming through my hair, down my face, and down my body feels so damn good. After a little bit of shampoo and body wash, I feel like a new man…or at least a much cleaner Martin Persner, anyway. 

I turn the water off and reach for the towel, dry myself off, and then wrap the towel around my waist. I hope it’s not too presumptuous of me to walk out like this, because it’s what I’m going to do. Here goes nothing. 

I grab my clothes, open the door, and exit the bathroom. She’s not in the living room. “Anna…?” 

“I’m in the bedroom.” 

Oh. I see a light on in a room at the end of the hall, so I walk that way, poking my head in the doorway to see her sitting on her bed, still in her bathrobe, brushing her hair. “How was your shower?” she asked with a smile. 

“Amazing, thank you!” I replied, also with a smile. I set my clothes on top of her dresser, and then I sit next to her on the bed. “So…do you feel like you’re ready…?” 

She nods hesitantly as she puts her brush on the nightstand. 

“Listen, we’ll go slow, okay?” Anna nods. “This is an important lesson for you to learn, Anna. Please try to go with it, even if you feel uncomfortable. But if you feel like you really want to stop, we will, okay?” 

She nods again. “Okay, Martin.” 

We get more comfortable on the bed, and I make my second attempt of the night to kiss Anna. And this time, she doesn’t pull away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year :)


	6. Strawberries and Insecurities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They might've made it to the bedroom, but will Martin be able to help Anna overcome her insecurities?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: this chapter is still from Martin's perspective.

I didn’t notice this before, but her lips taste like strawberries. Must be her lip balm or lip gloss or something, even though I don’t remember seeing Anna put anything on her lips since we met earlier. It’s quite nice though. I let my hands start to roam a bit, careful not to go too far too soon, keeping my hands over her bathrobe. She’s mostly keeping her hands to herself; I hope she knows that it’s okay to touch me. In fact, I encourage it…

I eventually break the kiss, pulling back a bit to check in with her to make sure she’s doing alright. “You okay, Anna?” She nodded with a shy smile, and I smile back. “You taste like strawberries. It’s very nice.” 

“It’s my lip balm.” 

I chuckle. “I thought it might be something like that. It’s nice though. I like it. And you’re a good kisser.” Compliments are important, right? 

“So are you, Martin…” Somewhat surprisingly, she pulls me back in for another kiss, and this time, it includes tongue. We explore each other’s mouths, our tongues sliding and twisting together. I cup one of her breasts in my hand, feeling her tense up ever so slightly. I whispered to her that it’s okay, and she nodded, eventually relaxing into my touch. Deciding to take a chance, I kissed my way from her mouth to her neck. Anna moans, clearly enjoying what I’m doing as she leans her head back farther into the pillow to give me more access, and I continue to lavish attention on her exposed flesh. So far, so good. 

Taking things a step further, I move my mouth to her upper chest, to what was accessible with her bathrobe still firmly in place, but I’m about to change that. Or try, I should say. My hand moves to the robe’s tie, and I gently tug on it, releasing it. I move my hand back up to her chest, slowly pushing the fabric back to reveal more skin, and eventually, one of her breasts, my mouth closely following my hand. 

I feel Anna tense up again, so I wait until she relaxes again. One of her hands looks like it’s holding her robe closed down by her stomach, like she might not want the robe to come off. I make my way back up to her mouth, but pull back momentarily so I can look at her. “Hey, how about we lose the robe…?” I gently suggest. 

She frowns as she averts my gaze. “I-I don’t like my body, Martin.” 

“It’s okay, Anna. We all have our insecurities.” I roll over enough to pat my belly. “See this? Not my favorite thing about myself, but it’s there and it’s part of me.”

One of her hands moves to cover her mouth, like she’s trying to stifle a giggle. “But it’s cute…” 

I resist the urge to roll my eyes, because what every man wants is to be called “cute” in bed. Instead, I smirk. “How about it, Anna? Tell you what, I’ll go first by removing my towel. Deal…?” 

She hesitates at first, but then she nods in agreement. I settle back a bit so I’m half on my side, half on my back, and I reach for the towel. Anna bites her lip in anticipation as I open it, revealing my _everything_ to her. 

Her eyes widen, and she bites her lips a bit harder. I continue to watch her as I take myself in my left hand, slowly stroking my already-hard cock. There’s no way she didn’t feel this against her leg, yet she stares in silent wonderment. After what feels like forever—but was probably only a minute or so—she snapped out of it, looking up at me and then slowly releasing her bathrobe from her grasp. I let go of myself, moving my hand to the fabric, pushing it off her body on each side. Anna sits up a bit to free her arms, and then she lies back down. I trail my fingertips lightly between her breasts, down her abdomen, veering off to her right hip, down her right thigh, and then moving over to her left thigh, and follow the same pattern in reverse up her body again, taking her chin lightly in my fingers. “You’re beautiful, Anna,” I murmured to her, and when she started to protest, I repeated my words, and I meant them. She was beautiful. Despite her insecurities about not being pretty and not liking her body, she was beautiful. 

And in that moment, Dylan crept back in my mind because I couldn’t remember at any point in time telling her how beautiful she was. How beautiful she is. If she had any insecurities about herself, she kept them well-hidden. Even so, she should be told, and I’m going to make it a point to tell her the next time I see her. 

Every woman is beautiful in her own way, and deserves to be told so. 

I dipped my head to kiss Anna lightly, and it gradually grew deeper. I leaned more into the kiss, shifting my position to be halfway on her, halfway still on the bed. My dick was heavy on her leg and aching for attention. I slowly thrust my hips, getting some much-needed friction against her thigh. I suddenly felt her hand wrap around my girth, and it caught me slightly off-guard as this was the first time she had attempted to touch me. I was the one to tense up now, scaring off her touch. Fuck. “I’m sorry,” I whispered to her. “It’s okay to touch me, Anna. No need to be shy.” 

She looked up at me and nodded, her hand moving back to its previous position. I closed my eyes and let myself enjoy the softness of her hand, the firmness of her stroke. “How’s that, Martin?” she quietly asked me. Without opening my eyes, I raised my brows and smirked. “Feels so good, Anna…” An unplanned moan escaped my lips to punctuate just _how_ good it was. 

But the pleasure isn’t about me tonight, so I refocus my attention on her. Starting with her lips, I begin to kiss my way down her body, stopping at her breasts to give her nipples some attention, which by the sound of it, she enjoyed. But when I continued my way down her stomach, she stopped me. “I-I don’t want you to go down on me, Martin,” she stammered. “I don’t…I don’t like it, sorry.” 

To each their own, but I’m always shocked when women don’t enjoy this. Like, really? You do understand I’m trying to give you an almost-guaranteed orgasm here, right? And men who don’t enjoy blowjobs? No words. I’m clearly not one of them. 

“Oh…o-okay,” I replied hesitantly. “Is it alright if I touch you though…?” Because I don’t want to do anything that she doesn’t want me to. Again, tonight is about her. It’s not about me. She nods, somewhat to my relief. I’m still confident that I can give her an orgasm; plus, this will help prepare her for what is yet to come. 

My mouth returns to her breasts, and my hand makes its way down her body. She spread her legs enough to give me access, and I run my fingers along the insides of her thighs, gradually getting closer and closer to her _snippa_. Anna lifts her hips slightly, and it doesn’t go unnoticed, so I give her what I think she wants. 

My fore- and middle fingers dip between her lips, and I instantly feel her wetness. I run my fingers from back to front and back again, teasing her clit at each pass. She lifts her hips again, and I slide my forefinger inside of her; it’s met with a moan from Anna. I work my finger in her, finding her G-spot, judging by the sounds escaping her lips, and I quickly add a second finger, continuing my efforts. I add a third finger, and she came undone a short time later. 

While she was still in the throes of her orgasm, she begged me to fuck her. There were condoms on the nightstand, which was great because mine were in my jacket pocket (and my jacket was on the coat rack by the door), so I grab one and rip it open with my teeth. I toss the empty package back on the nightstand, rolling the condom onto myself. I asked her what position she wanted, and Anna opted to get on her hands and knees. Always a good choice. I got on my knees behind her, lined myself up, and slowly slid in, giving her a chance to adjust to my size. Once she gave me a slight nod, the okay to continue, I started thrusting at a steady pace, earning a delightful moan from Anna each time I hit the right spot, which was often. 

I pressed my chest against her back, cupping her breasts in my hands, and whispering in her ear through gritted teeth as I wasn’t going to be able to last all that much longer because of how good it felt. “Such pretty moans, Anna. Can you come for me again?” She nodded before crying out one word: “Harder…!” That was almost enough to push me over the edge right there, but I kept it together, at least for now. I adjusted my positioning, grabbed her hips, and I gave her everything I had left in me. I fucked her, and I fucked her _hard_. 

It didn’t take much before she orgasmed, and I lost myself when I felt her spasming and clenching around me. I buried myself as deep as I could, and something rather primal roared out of me as I came. 

Afterwards, I flopped on the bed, still breathing raggedly, and she collapsed on the bed herself, also quite breathless. After a bit, she turned her head to look at me, and I motioned for her to come closer. She nestled into my side, and I wrapped an arm around her, kissing her forehead. 

We enjoyed a comfortable silence for as long as we could until I had to get up so I could head to the hotel. The guys and I were leaving early enough to where it made more sense to spend the night there than at Anna’s. She watched as I dressed, tossing her bathrobe back on when we left her room. I put my shoes and jacket on, and we said our good-byes.


	7. Cunning Linguistics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin's already-late night takes an unexpected turn once he makes it back to the hotel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This final chapter is also from our boy Martin's perspective.

As I walked down the stairs, I checked my phone to see how far the nearest Uber was, and it was ten minutes away. Considering it was approximately a fifteen minute walk back to the hotel, I decided to forgo the Uber. I left the building, stepping outside onto the sidewalk, and started my trip, checking the various notifications on my phone along the way.

I had texts from Dylan and my brother awaiting me. Arvid kindly left a keycard for me at the front desk since I didn’t get my own room for the night as I had planned to spend the night with Dylan; now I get to spend the night with my brother. I doubt there will be two beds in his room, so my only hope is that he doesn’t try to cuddle with me. 

I replied to let him know I was on my way back to the hotel. I get a one letter reply. Not even one word. _One letter_ : “K”. He was probably sleeping or half-asleep, so I’ll cut him some slack. It is late, after all. I also replied to Dylan, letting her know I was on my way back to the hotel, and that I’d text her tomorrow. When she didn’t reply, I assumed it was because she was sleeping. 

I’d gotten a couple of blocks away when a realization hit me: I forgot to get Anna’s number. “Fuck…” I mumbled to myself as I continued down the sidewalk.

After arriving at the hotel, I stopped at the front desk to get the keycard that Arvid had left for me, and then I took the elevator a few floors up. As I made my way to his room, I decided that another shower was in order before crawling in bed. I reached the room, slid the key card in the lock, and stepped inside once the little green light flashed. Except for the city lights coming in through the window, the room was otherwise dark. I turned the bathroom light on, but then poked my head around the corner into the room to see Arvid crashed under the blanket with only the top of his head peeking out. 

I took my jacket off, tossing it over the chair in front of the desk that seems to be present in almost every hotel room I’ve ever stayed in, and I noticed that my bag was sitting on the floor, quietly thanking my brother for bringing it in so I’d have fresh clothes to sleep in and also to put on in the morning. I kicked my shoes off, grabbed my bag, and headed into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. 

I turn the water on in the shower, and then close the shower door so I can remove my clothes while the water warms up. It’s been such a long day, and I’m so tired; I can’t wait to get some sleep. Clothes off, I step into the shower and again stand almost directly under the showerhead. I close my eyes and let the water beat down on me. If I stand here much longer, I’m going to fall asleep on my feet. 

I reach for the body wash, and my sleep-deprived brain doesn’t recognize it as Arvid’s preferred brand, nor does it appear to be hotel issued because the bottle is much bigger than the little sample size they leave for guests. I shrug it off and put a dollop in my hand, working it into a lather and slathering it on my body. And that’s when the scent hits me: this is Dylan’s body wash, and Arvid must’ve left me a keycard for her room! I quickly rinse myself, deciding against washing my hair again, and turn the water off. After grabbing a towel, I dry myself, and then rummage through my bag for a fresh pair of boxer briefs. 

I hang up my used towel, brush my teeth, open the door, and turn off the light behind me, heading into the room. I pull back the covers enough to slip in by Dylan, who’s sleeping on her side, her back to me. I settle in behind her, the big spoon to her little spoon, and I wrap an arm around her and pull her tight against me. I honestly wasn’t trying to wake her up; I just wanted her as close as possible. But she did awake, doing a little cat-like stretch and giving me a sleepy “hey”. 

I nestled my chin in the crook of her neck. “Hey…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” I whispered to her. She stretched again before turning over in my arms to face me, first curling into my chest and draping an arm around me, and finally lifting her head to look at me. “It’s okay, Martin. Did you have fun?” she mumbled, still a bit sleep-hazed. 

I kissed her forehead and then smiled as I pushed some hair back that had fallen across her face when she turned over, tucking it behind her ear. “I did. She’s a nice girl. She kept asking about you though, so it kept reminding me that I wasn’t here with you.” Despite the darkness, I can see a smile spread across her face, and I kiss her forehead again. “But it was good otherwise.” 

Her hand ran up my body, settling against my jawline as she stroked my cheek with her thumb, her touch giving me goosebumps because I’d been craving it so much. “You’re a good man, Martin,” she said quietly as she sleepily gazed at me, her eyelids threatening to slam shut at any moment. 

I pressed my lips against each of her eyelids. “Let’s get some sleep,” I whispered to her, and she nodded. “Very good idea…” she murmured before nuzzling up into me, running her lips along my jawline, humming in satisfaction, until she reached my ear. “I’m happy to see you,” she sighed before running her lips along my jawline again, this time in reverse, from my ear to my chin with the same hum of satisfaction. 

And then something clicked: her happy little hums? It was the stubble, and I remembered her comment in the corridor earlier: _“I’ll also really enjoy feeling it on the insides of my thighs when you’re going down on me later.”_ I knew what I had to do. What I’d been wanting to do since dinner. What I’d been wanting to do since I last saw her in March. 

I roll towards her, pushing her back against the bed, claiming her mouth with mine. She giggles and smiles into my mouth as she wraps her arms around my neck, and laughs harder when I kiss her teeth, making me laugh as well. I pulled back for a moment, cataloguing her in my memory: her scrunched nose, the crinkles at the corners of her half-moon eyes, made such by her cheeks being pushed up by her unsuppressed and unfiltered smile, and the sweet sound of her laughter, knowing that I was the one who made her laugh this way. 

She quirks an eyebrow at me when she catches me gazing down upon her. “What…?” 

I slowly shook my head. “You are so, so beautiful, Dylan. I’m sorry I’ve never told you that…” And before she could say anything, I pressed my lips against hers, kissing her in earnest. 

I then kissed my way down her body, clad in only a bra and panties, until I settled between her legs. I teasingly rubbed my stubble along the insides of her thighs, quirking an eyebrow back at her as she watched me through half-lidded eyes that I suspected were not the product of sleepiness. “This is what you wanted…?” She nodded and bit her bottom lip as I kissed her mound, only the thin fabric of her panties separating my mouth from her most intimate region. I slowly slid the fabric aside, watching her as she watched me. 

As I was about to tease her clit with my tongue, she whimpered in need. Even in the mostly-unlit room, I’m certain she could see the way my eyes darkened, and when she actually begged me, the way she said “please” to me, it was more than I could take, and I gave her all that she desired in that moment. The sounds that came from her as I extracted two orgasms from her quivering body in quick succession were like music to my ears, almost better than Abba. _Almost_. 

The last thing I remember was resting my head on her thigh, and Dylan thanking me as she ran her fingers through my hair, telling me that she got Anna’s number earlier, and then we both crashed as we were; me between her legs with my head on her thigh, her hand still in my hair. 

A few hours later, I reluctantly awoke, carefully sliding off the bed so I wouldn’t wake her too, and covering her with the blanket before I disappeared into the bathroom to get ready for the day. When I came out, she was still sound asleep. I slipped my shoes and jacket on, grabbed my bag, and headed down to the lobby to meet the guys. 

So that was Stockholm. I was able to pay it forward with Anna _and_ reward Dylan for her selflessness. Next up is Gothenburg with several other stops along the way, but I have my sights set on Vosselaar, Belgium, and my next night with Dylan. Until then, I’ll be counting down the days…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming soon: the next story of the "Lessons Learned" series, which will take place in Belgium.

**Author's Note:**

> If you follow this link and scroll almost to the bottom of the page, you'll be able to see the room that this first chapter takes place in...  
> https://translate.google.com/translate?hl=en&sl=sv&u=https://www.nalen.com/lokaler/stora-salen/&prev=search


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